


Without Words

by townshend



Category: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Genre: Community: slashthedrabble, Ficlet, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/townshend/pseuds/townshend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hanna not being able to speak isn't actually a good thing at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Words

Hanna's spellwork had gone awry.

Hanna had managed to fight off the creature, _whatever it had been_ , and it had disappeared. Afterwards, the light from the spell Hanna had cast faded, he turned towards his undead friend and grinned, a wide childlike smile, and spread his arms, opening his mouth to say something.

Nothing came out.

Hanna put a hand to his throat, blinking, confused. He opened his mouth again, but there was no sound.

 

 

"A medical miracle," Worth said, setting down the wooden tongue depressor. The zombie (what name was he? Hanna hadn't given him a new one in a while and he certainly couldn't now) had the bad feeling Worth was planning on reusing it some other time.

"Miracle?" he asked, quietly. Hanna looked from him to Worth desperately, eyes wide.

"Yep. Means we don't have to hear him squabbling all the time," Worth said, lighting the cigarette already in his mouth. He was putting on a nice show, but the zombie could tell he was troubled.

 

 

Hanna came home and slumped on the couch, letting out a loud breath of air and staring up at the ceiling, frowning. The zombie watched him. Surely Hanna could fix whatever it was that had happened. It seemed like Hanna could do anything with the right combination of pen strokes.

"...Pancakes?" the zombie asked, quietly. It wasn't going to help much, but he couldn't stand to see Hanna looking so helpless. Hanna glanced towards him, then nodded, grinning.

 _Pancakes,_ he mouthed in return, and when the zombie moved towards the kitchen, Hanna sprang up, waving his arm around to get his partner's attention. Fetching a piece of paper, Hanna whipped out a marker and wrote big across the paper, _BLUEBERRIES!!!!_.

The zombie nodded.

 

 

Later that night, Hanna lie curled up, the zombie reading. Hanna wasn't asleep - that much was clear to him. He'd become familiar with the sound of Hanna's peaceful breathing, and it wasn't happening now.

Soundlessly, he set down the book, leaning forward and crawling towards the mattress on the floor. Hanna stirred, turning towards him, and the zombie paused before raising a finger and pressing it to his own lips: _shh_.

The ridiculousness of it caught Hanna suddenly, and a toothy grin stretched over his face. Even without Hanna talking, the zombie could hear his voice in his head. _Like I could do anything else! C'mon, Galahad, don't be silly. That's my job._

Slipping under the blanket, the zombie hesitated before he pulled Hanna close to his chest, holding him there. He wanted to say he would find a way to fix what had happened and get Hanna his voice back, so Hanna could go back to chattering about this and that and telling crazy stories and yelling Queen lyrics and whispering dark secrets, but his mouth stayed shut, words failing him. Hanna took in the smell of his clothes and smiled, closing his eyes. The zombie could only hope that, somehow, even without words, the meaning was exchanged easily.

 _You don't have to talk for me to know what you need._


End file.
